Two weeks in Seoul boiled down to a mere 30 photos – yeah, either I’ve had my chronic indecisiveness miraculously cured, or someone broke into the flat during the night and magically edited down the lot. If it’s the latter I also wish they touched me before sneaking out. All kidding aside, once I’d dealt with the two-freaking-thousand files that choked up the ‘SEOUL 2014’ folder, I found myself at a bind, because even with a more manageable bunch my time in Seoul was just too big, dynamic, entertaining, nostalgic, and exotic to ‘boil down’ into one sweeping summary.

Over the two weeks, I reconnected with friends and relatives I hadn’t seen in about seven years, and visited my grandmother who fed me the same type of fried fish she used to hide inside my spoonful of rice when I was little; then my Caucasian husband arrived midway through, and together the city was suddenly an exotic new ground with every corner fascinating. All in all I found: the people supremely enjoyable, the fashion essential, and the food unbearably sexy. Tradition and modernity co-exist in great harmony, which is something I particularly adored this time round – especially how the young people embrace and pride in the heritage…

I do realize I’m technically tooting my own people’s horn here and may not be the best person to lend impartial image of the city but then again you’re not here for impartial reviews, are you?! Because in the next post I’m going to rave about honey pancakes and outline why it’s the bestest thing in the world and you’re not allowed to ask what about donuts and macarons.

Working my way back slowly through this MA-HOOSIVE backlog and realizing that, while I’ve now officially earned the Worst Blogger in History title (I’d like to thank the hobo academy for the consistent support and encouragement…), it really is a pleasure to re-live some bits from the past few months through mere snaps. Bits like, the giddy first 24 hours of travel where you arrive at the airport, clumsily hustling three Samsonite rolling trunks that contain a clever edit – or so you think then- of your belongings, unsoiled and expertly rolled. You’re in some 4-inch heels too, because comfort isn’t particularly an important currency at this stage – well, aren’t you sitting for the next eleven hours? I always travel in heels. At the check-in desk the bags are fared well, and in exchange you receive a slip with promises of grand adventure, and secretly hope the guys at border security don’t mind that you’re smuggling in butterflies in your stomach.

I’m blowing off the layer of dust on the rest of the Seoul photos, so watch this space for more from my January past. Let’s Benjamin Button for a couple of weeks, shall we?

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I do apologise for the radio silence of late, I’ve been struggling to tackle jetlag for the past two weeks or so, while being absolutely useless in either timezones. In a nutshell, it means I’ve been having six meals a day and taking the circle line in the subway like a hobo to sit and nap. I think I’ve only just managed to calibrate to the correct time-zone and apparently we’re leaving tomorrow. KILL ME.

So here’s a quick one today with a packing video I shot with Samsonite & Fashiolista; also to say that I’m alive, and that Seoul is amazing.

If you’re like me and spend more alone-time with your suitcase than with the significant other, this might be for you. Because last time I checked you can’t win a tattooed Ryan Gosling off the internet, let alone password protect him with a TSA-approved lock. Clever luggage got even cleverer, yo. I’ve teamed up with Fashiolista and Samsonite this month to give away a handsome limited edition roller suitcase from their Cosmolite range, just follow the instructions here and cross your fingers it’s yours before the bells jingle.

The best and worst thing about coming back home to Warsaw is that I can pick up exactly where I left off 6 months ago – the same roadworks that still jam the intersection to dad’s restaurant, my car with its front wheels in the garden grass as I last parked it… Even the snow shovel from January is still leaning outside the garage door. The fact that nothing seems to change is haven but at the same time I feel that it robs the satisfaction of being away from something for a long period of time. It’s as if the act of taking everything off except my wig, bra and panties at the security gate was for no cause, or standing an awkward minute too long at the check-in desk waiting for the man to realize how politically uninformed he is to ask whether we are from North or South Korea was an awkward minute wasted.

One thing that does seem to change though, is the increasing number of wrinkles on my parents face each time I visit – I wouldn’t mind taking the gun out of my wig or telling the man that we’re from West Korea if it means I could give the pleasure of giving the folks a visit.